First Self Righteous Church

Kids Rock

Oh man, you have got to check this out. I snickered. Then I snorted.

glumbert - Kids' Rock

Just call me Bubbles

Remember the 'phone in the disposal' incident? Or maybe the 'glasses in the dishwasher' story? Well, third time's a charm when it comes to my crazy run-ins with ordinary kitchen appliances.

I had moved just about everything out of the apartment except for the second-string cleaning supplies from deep under the sink. It came time to run that last load of dishes that had been in the sink for, well... a while. Anyways, ahem...

So I finally used that off-brand mail-order 'dish detergent' that someone had given me in ancient times. I always kept it around as a back-up in case I ran out of the real stuff. Even though it said 'extra concentrated' I put I good helping in the dishwasher. I then left to run some errands while the machine ran. Luckily I went back in to grab something because it didn't take long for the LAUNDRY DETERGENT to suds up and flow onto the floor. Go. Me.

Voices

Today I will be packing. Tomorrow I will be driving. And the rest of the week I will be doting. So if you don't hear from me, forgive me. Until then, enjoy this strange little clip.

It makes me think of that kid from The Shining.

My Own Circus

I promise I will never go to Walmart without a camera again. How dare I deprive my three and a half readers pictures of the freaks that live in this small Deep South town.

Let me tell you the story.

I finally broke down and went grocery shopping this morning. An hour and a half after entering the 3rd circle of hell I got to the checkout line with my loot. There was an overweight and gender-confused young man working the register. He had a bleach blond, very feminine, long bob that looked like it had been moussed and straightened. He also had acrylic nails. Blue acrylic nails. With bright pink tips. I couldn't help but wonder if he was simply acting out- 'being himself'- or if he had a body dysmorphia that made him think he was a slender blond starlet on the verge of discovery. All of this is fine and dandy- to each his own insanity.

But! ((This is where my insanity comes in.)) I had laid out all of my groceries in a specific order on the conveyor belt. My meats were together so that they wouldn't be bagged with the vegetables. My frozen dinners were conveniently stacked so that they could all go in the same bag. My chips were laying next to the shredded cheddar and bag of lettuce- things that wouldn't render them a sad sack of corn flour and salt. What did Manicure-man do to my neatly organized groceries? You know what happens next. The frozen dinners were laid on top of the chips. The meat and the vegetables were put in the same bag (How unsanitary). The TP was bagged with the dry goods. All of my compulsive conveyor-belt planning was for naught. Woe is me.

The second starlet of my own little circus was a young woman with a gravity defying weave. I mean, Wow. It was stunning how she was able to balance all of that braided horse hair on the side of her head like that. It had to have been a foot tall, er, I mean wide. I kept watching to see if it would shake as she did her booty-bouncing walk through the parking lot. It. Never. Moved.

Her outfit was equally impressive. She had on a t-shirt made for a small child. I think it was Carebears, maybe Glo-worm. I'm pretty sure her denim skirt was a pair of jeans cut straight across at the crotch. And the shoes? You know they were as tall as the weave. The kicker though? What really got me? Was that she took the time to accessorize this pell-mell crazy-ass outfit. She had a pair of lime-green spandex suspenders hanging from the skirt. They covered more of her legs than the skirt itself. It gave the outfit this air of being 'completed' that was simply strange. I hate to think about how much time she spent working on her ghetto-chic look.

Foot in Mouth Disease

"Hey I remember you," I said.

Studying at the coffeehouse is a bit of a joke. Having books in front of you seems to make everyone, even quasi-strangers, flock to where you are sitting and want to chat. Nonetheless, I attempted to study for today's finals at one of the outdoor tables yesterday. It was too nice outside to resist.

"Yeah... I remember you. You were the guy who wouldn't do my tattoo. You told me 'Sorry, but I have to go home and [screw] my teenage girlfriend. She's a cheerleader and she gets antsy when I make her wait.' So I got my tattoo somewhere else."

Behind his tattoos and face jewelry he shrunk a little bit. He said "Yeah, I'm not really like that anymore. I don't date teenagers and [stuff] these days. But sorry I wouldn't do your tattoo for you."

The other people around the table had a little chuckle and the conversation moved on. No big deal. The guy went inside.

Then the girl sitting next to me quietly said "I'm his new girlfriend."

Oops.

The schizophrenic serenade

I spend too much time on the interwebs.

Antecdote

I misplaced my glasses at some point last night. I looked high and low at my apartment and the neighbors' apartment and couldn't find them. I knew they would show up somewhere so I wasn't too worried about it.

This morning I found them. In the dishwasher. Hey, at least the are clean now, right? Hee hee.

Crunch.

It's late and even though I criss-crossed all over downtown today, I can't sleep. I've been having not-so-fun dreams the past couple of nights and I guess it has me a little apprehensive.

So in leiu of a trip to Nod I am writing this and uploading pictures on to my new website, www.littlemisseryn.org/gallery . Thanks to my very thoughtful boyfriend, I have entered the world of ubergeekdom. If anything can cure insomnia, web design can; I assure you.

Let me back up and tell my adventures, starting with the dinner party last night.

Wesley and I cooked for ourselves, two other couples, and Jason. It was my first time meeting three of the seven people there and the two couples did not know each other either. It all went very well; food was good, fellowship was great. Then came time to do the dishes.

Crunch. We all heard it when Wesley ran the disposal. It was considered unnatural, but before anyone gave it any real thought the conversation resumed. After a while I got up to clean the mashed potato pot. I looked down into the disposal and saw a red light.

I thought "How cool. Their disposal has a light in it so you can see if you dropped anything into it." I looked a little closer and announced to everyone the astute observation that "There is something inorganic in here." Everyone immediately rushes over to see what is going on. Just at that time I pull out the mangled front cover of my phone. It was so pitiful looking that I had to laugh. Next I pulled out the body of the phone. The red light was still on and the think was vibrating. It was like a dying animal having seizures. Just pitiful.

So after the hooplah dies down, I order a new phone and the rest of the night goes smoothly. Hooray for morbid experiences with technology. Heh.

Today I went downtown and took pictures. I met very friendly people and got some pictures I like, many that I don't. This is partly because I forgot to take water and half way through the afternoon my hands started shaking and I was too distracted to really focus on what I was doing. Not that I was going for super-mega artsy photos anyways, but I wish I had spent a little more time on some of the shots. You can see them at www.littlemisseryn.org/gallery

It's late. I hope this post makes sense.

Zoom Zoom

Ok, so all this doom and gloom and world issues mess kept me from sleeping last night. So...
Today I giggled.
See why here

Good times.